Apple of Sodom
by Cadeja
Summary: It was a bribe to the Head Preist Cassandra, Father had told him. The Head Priest's talent to violate minds, including Jizabel's, was too valuable to Delilah, the Card Master had claimed. So he had sent his own son to Cassandra, not as if this was any new low for Alexis. It shouldn't shock Jizabel, really, how easily Card Master made the transaction.


Venus in Furs

It was a bribe to the Head Preist Cassandra, Father had told him. The Head Priest's _talent_ to violate minds, including Jizabel's, was too valuable to Delilah, the Card Master had claimed. So he had sent _his own _son to Cassandra, not as if this was any _new _low for Alexis. It shouldn't shock Jizabel, really. How easily Card Master made the transaction, the pleasure he took in doing business, the pleasure he took in seeing the Doctor's face a last time as The High Priest ushered him away. It had not shocked Jizabel, but sickened him, when he'd got his father's letter confirming to him that he was not, indeed, there as support for another card.  
_"Jizabel Disraelli, I expect you to be an amicable and obedient little companion to the Lord Gladstone. It is your task to be certain he maintains good spirits about the arrangement that has been made with Delilah. Charm him, Alexis Hargreaves."_

Jizabel could now say in his mind, that Father had sold him.  
Jizabel sat at the boudoir vanity, going over _that_ text in his mind. Gladstone's servants slid off Jizabel's kimono and began pulling his long strands into plaits that then became some french up-do; Jizabel's already fractured mind insisted that, really what Alexis had meant to write was _harm him, Jizabel_. He could hardly breath as the clothing came on, with bustling servants' hands running up his back and sides to secure every ribbon, clasp and tie: the crisp whale bone corset, the cyan silk gown, the taupe kidskin gloves up to his elbow and that dreadful coat of gray mink and sable that Cassandra had got him as a "welcoming gift". The last step was a sheer wash of crimson to Jizabel's lips.  
He had never seen any of Cassandra's other _whores _or _pets_ wrapped up in so much finery and _skin _as himself; it seemed the filth had envied their master's gifts of fur and ivory to Jizabel. Cassandra knew what he was doing to him. That. Monster. Knew.

The beast himself stood at the doorway, all the while tapping his foot and glancing between Jizabel and a golden pocket watch.  
"You look truly _lovely_, my darling Jizabel. But if you continue your preening, we shall miss the first act of tonight's Opera. You wouldn't want to miss Puccini, now would you? Besides, just think of how society will judge your debut if we are running tardy!"  
Jizabel had not willed to move, not until that filth's hand on his shoulder had signaled for him to get up and turn about to face Cassandra. _Charm him_. Eyes unfocused and directed only toward one of the tapestries on the far wall. Cassandra hummed a melody to himself as he placed the finishing touch on _his guest_. The ivory necklace and earrings felt far too heavy, Jizabel thought.

"My pretty dove, is something wrong? You haven't spoken, despite my not putting one of those pesky collars on you."  
Jizabel winced, as he let himself be shepherded out the door by an arm circling his waist. Cassandra made some comment about his lack of reply, saying it was because of Jizabel and his little moods, and how he wondered how the Card master had put up with Death.  
Before Cassandra appended: "Oh, wait. I almost forgot: The Card Master _couldn't stand_ you. That's why you made yourself a gift to me.  
Well, let's go _my_ sweet creature, the opera awaits."  
Jizabel hated the opera.

* * *

So... So, so,so I wanted to do a Jizabel and Cassandra fic that doesn't focus on Cassandra controlling Jizabel by sex, violence and drugs. (Not that there's anything wrong with such fics, they're quite fun.) I wanted to look more at the sick, wolf-in-sheep's-clothingly sweet mind games that Cassandra played with Jizabel; and the fact that, after Alexis, Jizabel would be vulnerable enough to that type of mind game that it could utterly destroy him.  
I might add more shots to this, though I'm not sure to what direction: I love Jizabel greatly, but writing him with Cassandra is the same as watching a car crash. So it might just be more Jizabel mindfuckrey.  
On the other hand I love Jizabel with Cassian, and am trying to resist the urge to write: and then a grown up Cassian burst through the window Batman-style and bashed Cassandra's head in with a wine bottle. Him and Jizabel then danced a slow Viennese waltz together, and proceeded to run off to elope in the french country side where they raised many, many sheep together and lived happily ever after.  
...yeah.

Notes about the titles:

Apple of Sodom refers to a fruit described by "_…their vine is of the vine of Sodom, and of the fields of Gomorrah: their grapes are grapes of gall, their clusters are bitter"._The tree's bark is grey and cork-like, and the fruit, when ripe, is bright yellow, comely and sweet. Native to the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, this fruit turns to ashes when plucked as a sign of God's displeasure. "

Venus in Furs: a novel by Leopold Von Sacher-Masoch, called "a famous classic of the relationship between sex and cruelty". Guess what the author is a namesake to.


End file.
